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“Yeah, we’ll see if you feel that way when the magic wears out of your system.”
“Maybe I still won’t care.”
“I think you will.”
“But maybe I won’t.” I circle my arms around the back of his neck, and his eyes slightly widen. “It doesn’t seem that awful for you to be connected to me in that way. I mean, you seem nice. Well, when you’re not pissed off. And you’re super pretty.”
His brow rises as he settles his hands on my waist. “I’m not pretty.”
“Yes, you are.” I sketch my fingers along his tattooed arms and his pierced lips. “Even with all the tattoos and piercings.” I comb my fingers through his hair, and he all but purrs. “Honestly, I kind of like the tattoos and piercings. I never really have before when it comes to guys. Then again, I’ve never really been attracted to anyone before.” Pain briefly pierces my heart at the reason, but the feeling swiftly fades into a sea of dizziness.
He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a faltering breath. “While I love hearing all of this, I really think you shouldn’t say anything else about it until the magic is out of your system.”
“Okay, I can to do that.” But that doesn’t mean I want to stop touching him. I want to touch him more. And seeing no reason not to, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
A throaty moan fumbles from his mouth as he winds his hands around to the small of my back.
“Lake,” he whispers, breaking our connection.
I leave him no time to protest, kissing him again. This time, he kisses me back, delving his fingernails into my back as he struggles to breathe and keep us from falling over.
I wonder what the kiss is like for him. If he feels the same fire blazing inside him, too. I wonder if he likes kissing me, or if the alterum dimidium animae is the driving force behind his want for me.
I pull back at the thought, even dizzier than before. “I have a question.”
He stares at me dazedly and confused, high off the kiss. “Okay …” He can barely concentrate on anything other than my lips.
“What do you feel when …?” The words are choked out of me as a new scent wafts through the air.
Moonlight mixed with … black roses?
I’m not even certain how I know what black roses smell like, but the air currently reeks of it. And I’ve smelled it before. It takes me a dragging number of seconds to think past the faerie magic and figure out where.
The alleyway in the Common Realm.
The alleyway where I was attacked.
The smell didn’t register to me then, but it definitely does now, probably because my wolf senses are heightening.
My heart hammers as I skim the werewolves dancing around me. But I can’t spot either of my attackers anywhere, and the scent soon fades.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I groan, hunching over and clutching my waist.
“Dammit, Liberty, I knew her body wasn’t ready for our drinks yet.” Jules scoops me up in his arms and carries me toward the door. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d probably protest him carrying me, but not when I’m doped up on faerie magic, feeling like I’m about to yack my guts out.
“You’re going to be okay,” Jules murmurs as we step out into the warm sunshine.
“No, I don’t think I am,” I groan, pushing my palm against his chest. “Put me down. I’m going to throw up.”
I expect him to drop me the moment the words leave my lips, but he carries me while rounding the side of the bar. Then he carefully and very gently sets me down onto the ground.
“Ugh,” I moan as vomit burns the back of my throat. I crouch down as my stomach lurches. “I’m never going to drink anything from this realm ever again.”
“Shh …” Jules crouches down beside me, brushing my hair back. “It’ll just take some time for your body to get used to the magic, but I promise, it’s not always this bad. In fact, under the right circumstances, getting drunk on magic is fun.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” And that’s when the vomit makes a grand appearance.
